


An Accidental Kidnapping

by SeparationBoundary



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Blow Jobs, Drinking, Drunk Feitan, F/M, Implied Torture, Implied Violence, Mention of blood, implied assassination, mild jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeparationBoundary/pseuds/SeparationBoundary
Summary: Feitan is out on a job to kill a double crossing Mob Boss when he kind of, sort of rescues a damsel in distress.  Turns out she's been watching him and is intrigued.  Will seeing what the little interrogator of the Phantom Troupe can do to the man who crossed them cause her to lose her feelings toward him?  Will she get to get her hands on the gorgeous spider?  Will feitan get a leg over?  Will Phinks recover from his seething jealousy?





	1. Sidetracked on a Job

**Author's Note:**

> Feitan, who speaks Chinese, Japanese (some), and English (even less) speaks in the last two languages rather brokenly. Bear with him. He also pronounces some non-asian names a bit awkwardly, breaking them into distinct syllables. I have written the name in question phonetically to try to convey his pronunciation. Fei's speech is just too cute!

F x OC – an accidental kidnapping?

The glittering crowd swirled around the bar. Rich people,  famous people, high level arena champions, politicians.   One person – none of any of these – hunched on a stool at the bar guardedly watching the crowd and wishing fervently that he'd sent someone else on this mission

That person was Feitan, de facto leader of the famous Genei Ryodan, a band of thieves with top bounties on their heads. Feitan, not just the current leader, but easily the most powerful nen user amongst them, was currently cringing into his seat like a disgruntled child.

He hated people. People lied. They hurt, they cheated, they stole. You had to _deal_ with them. He looked around uncomfortably and gulped at the glass of neat whiskey.

They judged.  

He eyeballed his current target, a fat, greasy, man with a slicked down comb-over and lax lips, a mob boss, a man who had backed out on a deal with the Phantom Troupe. Not a wise move.

The man’s goons had already given Feitan the once over. Judging. Feitan was small, lean, dressed in all black, a scarf covering the lower half of his face. He seemed harmless, if a bit eccentric.  

They'd judged him.

They’d judged him wrong.

He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and gestured for another. It wasn't like he was going to pay for them.

All he needed was for his mark to get out of here. The number of henchmen that accompanied him was immaterial. Feitan could easily kill them all in the relative obscurity of a hotel hallway.  

The troupe leader examined his intended victim. He was planning on torturing the unfortunate man a little and was absentmindedly planning just what to do first when a complication arose.

Two actually.

First; an envoy of politicians surrounded the mob boss, pressing flesh, smiling, schmoozing. Feitan grimaced.  

Second; something soft bumped into the Gen’ei Ryodan's expert interrogator.  

The small man grunted and stood, rescuing his fresh drink from spilling. The soft object - actually a person – smiled and gripped his black clad arm gently

“Oh!  I'm so sorry!”

Feitan did not like to be touched. Much less so by strangers. He stiffened and gripped the person's hand, prying it off of his arm.

A burst of nen bloomed around the person – it was a woman – and Feitan's eyebrows almost reached his hairline.  

For a moment they stood in tableau. His hand on her wrist, his nen – blue-purple - butting up against hers – red, yellow, orange, like fire. It was mesmerizing. She was taller than him by a few inches but his boots made them almost equal. She stared, fascinated, into his steel grey eyes and he quickly assessed her ordinary face, her chopped off dark hair, her lush figure that had so amply bumped his spare frame.  

No nen ability showed itself, though. Instead - before he could react to either her body or her nen - her laughter bubbled up out of nowhere. “Sorry!” She said again, and was gone, making a beeline for the mob boss Feitan was shadowing.  

Feitan's mouth felt dry.

_Well, fuck._

\---

Feitan had hung around – and drunk – for a half an hour. The politicians showed no sign of leaving the mob boss’s presence and Feitan was on the verge of killing every single person in the bar. If Shalnarks insistence on “keeping a low profile” hadn't been ringing in his head …

Abruptly Feitan stiffened. He could sense carefully hidden zetsu and turned his head slowly. He looked up, up, up, along the long length of Illumi Zoldyk and into his flat black shark eyes.  

Feitan knew almost nothing about the assassin except that he was Hisoka's friend / lover. This brought him way down in the small thief's estimation.  

“Zoldyk,” Feitan murmured

“Who are you killing tonight?” Illumi asked in his stiff, almost childlike way, and a bit too loudly. He looked out over the crowd curiously. “I hope it's not my mark. That would be awkward.”

Feitan hunched into himself, wishing he was anywhere but here; wishing that that fucking mob family had not chosen to try to fuck over the Troupe.

He sighed. Could be worse.  Could be that fucking clown, Hisoka

“Oh,” Illumi said “ That's the ambassador from Goru. I wonder if she would have sex with me?”

Feitan choked on his drink. “What you …?”

Illumi gestured gracefully, sweeping the silky curtain of his dark hair over his shoulder. “Her. I find her very desirable.”

Feitan followed his finger and found himself locking gazes with the woman who had bumped into him.  There was that strong nen aura flare again.  She stared at him a moment, then dropped her gaze, the faintest pink dusting her cheeks. Feitan's dick twitched.  

“Fuck. She ambassador?”

Illumi nodded.  “There are several factions plotting to kidnap her I hear. Big ransom.”

The word “ransom” bounced around Feitan's head enticingly.  He regarded the woman narrowly.  

Pretty. He thought. Plenty to grab onto.  He inadvertently recalled the assassins words ‘I wonder if she would have sex with me?’  Unexpectedly he felt his trousers grow tight. It had been a long time and he couldn't remember a kidnap victim they'd held who was so …

“Oh.” Illumi said “I see my mark for tonight” he unfolded himself from the bar stool like a dark preying mantis and was gone leaving Feitan with his half hard-on and a mark who wasn't dead.   

\---

The woman was staring at him again.  She kept doing that.  Feitan frowned and jammed his hands into his pockets, turning slightly away from her.

_I'm not a freak show, lady._

There was a movement of the crowd and a murmur of raised voices, then a half-scream.  He guessed that Illumi had hit his mark.  The mob boss was looking sharply at the disturbance, his goons pressed close around him. The politicians moved away. Everyone in the room seemed focussed on the hit.

Except her.  She had glanced at the fuss then stepped back up to the bar, settling on a stool, presumably to refresh her drink. After a moment her amber eyes watched him sidelong from under her lashes.

Feitan made a quick, partially alcohol impaired, decision and suddenly he was close beside the woman.  He stepped up, standing on the cross braces of two stools so that he was leaning menacingly over her as she sat.

"Why you stare at me?" He hissed

She started and looked up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, and silent.

Feitan gripped her shoulder tightly and leaned into her space, looking to a casual observer like someone just having an intimate word with a handsome woman.

“Why?” He asked again, his grip tightening. The woman winced and her breath quickened but she stayed quiet

_Is she an idiot?_

Abruptly he recalled that she had spoken to him when she'd bumped into him … both times in English.  

Cursing under his breath in Chinese he switched to his slim store of English

“ why you …?” He immediately struggled. “why you look at me?”

“I …”  

The crowd surged, pressing Feitan against the girl. From his position of leaning over her he suddenly realized he could smell her. Soap, sweat, fear, and some kind of exotic spice mixed in with her rising body heat … and … excitement?.

The uproar on the other side of the room was dying down and he risked being noticed.  He glanced down at her darkly and she trembled, tongue flicking out to lick her bottom lip.

_Fuck!_

He pushed himself away even as his body responded eagerly and retreated to his stool where he nursed another drink and a definite erection.

_What the fuck and I doing?  I'm letting this distract me!  Why am I acting so needy?!_

_Cuz you're a guy,_  Phinks's voice spoke phlegmatically in his head. _And when's the last time you got laid?_

\---

It was almost midnight when finally the mob boss and his cronies moved toward his room. The fat oaf was very drunk and had latched onto the ambassador – clearly against her will. Mob boss and his goons formed a phalanx around the woman and shuffled her into the lift.  

Feitan, despite many drinks, followed, weaving, up the stairs.  

The boss's room was on the top floor but Feitan made it up just as quickly as the lift.  He was rather fuzzily trying to decide what to do and what to do first when he cracked open the stairwell door and peered out.  The assembly had stopped in front of a door halfway down.

 _Not big enough to get the presidential suite?_ Feitan thought and snickered.

Then he heard the ambassador's voice. She sounded furious and scared at the same time.  Shit.  He had forgotten about her in his drunken jog up the stairs.

He peeked out the door again.  She was struggling, her aura so bright it was almost blinding. The fat mobster had her arm and was roughly dragging her close, trying to reach her face with his lips.  His other hand yanked at her skirt hem, pulling it upward.

Two grinning henchmen gripped her arms and another one leg.  The boss moved his bulk between her knees.

_Shit.  They were going to rape her right here in the hall._

_Why is she not defending herself?  Why is she not using her nen?_

Feitan moved, slippery and fast, a mere shadow flickering down the hall.

In seconds everyone but Feitan and the woman and the mob boss were dead.

The woman was on her back, propped up on her elbows, dishevelled and gasping.  The fat man knelt between the ambassador's legs, head tucked down, looking ridiculously frightened.  Feitan stood over them, slender and black and dangerous.  The thief pulled down his scarf with one bloody finger and smiled crookedly.

"You make mistake," he said to the mobster, swiping the man's card key in the door lock.  "Was just going to break a few parts, have some fun.  Not now."  The smaller man grabbed the back of the big man's collar and dragged him, struggling and choking, toward the doorway.

"Gen’ei Ryodan do lot of things.  We steal from people, we kill people.  But we no rape.  Rape low.  Even for animal like you."


	2. Getting back on track

 

\---

The ambassador lay in the big, deep bathtub, shivering.  The porcelain was cold.  Her wrists were bound and her ankles, but the strange guy in black had carefully folded up a towel for her to put her head back on.

There had been horrible noises coming from the suite.  But they had stopped.  She didn't know what scared her worse; noises or silence.

She tried not to think about it.

She wondered if she was next.

The door creaked open and she jumped but couldn't see who or what had entered.  The short man had pulled the shower curtain halfway around the antique footed tub when he'd left, blocking her view of the door.

A figure passed by outside the curtain. It looked like him in silhouette. Small, dark.  She heard the sink turn on and heard the rustle of fabric.  The outlined figure was now black on bottom and pale on top.  He'd must have taken off the long dress-like tunic he wore.

The hot water steamed, puffs rising to the ceiling as he apparently washed himself.  A strange metallic tang hung in the air.  After a moment, the sink squeaked off and she saw the shadow of a towel being used.  The shower curtain was pulled back.

The man was still half naked.

His smooth, pale, skin had been reddened on his face and arms by the washing and drying but the rest of his upper body, from his slender throat to his slender hips was like new ivory.  He was well muscled but lean, every ridge and dip sharply defined. His hair was blue-black and his trousers, which had slipped low on his narrow hips, revealed a glimpse of silky looking black hair that trailed up to his navel.

The ambassador couldn't breathe.

Trying to look anywhere but at him, at that broad chest, at that patch of hair, she glanced at the door.  And screamed.

\---

They were outside of town before Feitan removed her blindfold. It was still early in the morning. Maybe 2:00 and he had made a tiny fire next to a half demolished building. He sat her firmly down, back to the bricks, facing the fire, and threw his bag down next to her before pulling off the bit of fabric

She shivered, looked around, and then at him.  She tried hard not to remember the blood.  All that blood.

He settled himself down beside her. Not too close  

“What your name miss ambassador?”

She stared at him, shaking.

Fuck. He'd forgotten she only spoke English. He tried again.

“What you name?”  Pathetic. He sounded like a kindergartener. So much for big bad leader-of-the-Phantom Troupe aweing the girl. He shook his head at himself.  

“What do you plan on doing with me? W-was that blood?  By the bathroom door?  On the floor? Blood?!”

He had absolutely no idea the English words for kidnapping or torture, and she was working herself into a fit.  He decided to stick with what concerned her.

“Yes, blood.  Not hurt you.  Take you ... Get money”

That aura again. Feitan was captivated.  “You're kidnapping me?  For ransom?  Have you even sent your demands to the consulate?!”

The thief was in over his head.  He had no idea what she was saying.  He enjoyed watching her mouth, though.

“Who are you anyway?” She asked in a breathless shriek.

Feitan realized he had to take control. He leaned over and grabbed the rope tying her wrists together and shook her hard enough to make her teeth click together.  

“No. No more!  Tell me name!”

She shrank away from him, darting glances around the empty space between the crumbling buildings. They were completely alone.  No witnesses to anything he might care to do.  He hadn't meant to scare her but in his frustration he shook her again. This time she let out a tiny yelp, jerking her bound hands away, and drawing her legs up, causing her already short skirt to roll up to her waist.  

Feitan sighed and held up both hands. She shuddered and buried her face in her bound hands.  Feitan, with difficulty, dragged his gaze from her plain white cotton underpants with their faintest bit of lace ...

He swallowed and frowned darkly. “Hey. I mean what I say … say at …” he gestured back the way they'd come “back there.”

Her brows knit. “W-What?”

Shit. He'd said it to the mobster. In Japanese.  

“I not … I never … make you” he searched for a word , any word to make this important point clear. “make you do sex!”

Her eyes widened. “I not do what he –“ he began again, gesturing inadvertently at her bare legs, her white underpants.  She sniffled and wiped her nose. He sat back on his heels, quiet, while she digested the information.

“ I Feitan. What you name?”  He tried again, softly.  

“Ava” sniffle

“Ae-fah” he said, trying out the odd sounds. “Aee -fah …”

"A-Va" she corrected. "A.  Va."

Feitan struggled with the unfamiliar 'v' sound. Leaning close he reached out without realising he was doing so and touched her bottom lip with his finger.

"Do again" he ordered, focused on her mouth.

"A.  Vvva." she said softly, buzzing over the consonant.  Feitan switched finger for thumb and swiped along her lip.  When he lifted his gaze he was looking straight into her honey coloured eyes.

His sadly neglected cock went from zero to sixty with no pause in between and Feitan sat back suddenly, both hands pressed into his lap.

He had the good grace to blush.

The girl chewed her lip, trying not to look at him, at his obvious erection, red-faced and searching for something to say. "So ... if the consulate pays the ransom, you'll let m-me go?"

Feitan again had no idea what she said, indeed, if she had been speaking fluent Chinese he may have still been in the dark.  All of the blood that was needed to run his brain was, after all, somewhere else just then.

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded emphatically.

She got awkwardly up on her knees and her skirt fell down - to Feitan's sorrow - to mid thigh.  She shuffled forward, holding out her bound hands.

"Can I at least be cut loose?  I won't run away.  I'm just so sore."

Feitan produced a knife with inhuman speed and slashed the ropes.  Eva began massaging her left wrist and Feitan, hesitantly, took it from her, pressing experimentally. He was unaccustomed to comforting.

The ache in his pants eased as he focused on getting the blood flowing through his erstwhile prisoner's wrists.  Her skin was fascinatingly soft and slightly tanned, a golden color that mesmerised him. They were both on their knees, facing each other, the firelight - such as it was - flickering over them when the small thief spoke.

"You no say ..." he shook his head furiously at his lack of the language, "You no say why you ... look at me"

Eva blushed.  Feitan thought it was captivating.  "I was staring at you because," she swallowed. "I think you're cute."  She laughed suddenly, a tad hysterically. “I didn't know you were a kidnapper!  What's that called? Something syndrome?”

Feitan looked up at her, uncomprehending, concerned at her shrill tone. “I no …”

"I ... I like your face!" She said suddenly.

Feitan stilled.

His face went black with fury and Eva shrank back.  His hands closed, hard, on her wrists.

"Liar!" he spat, "Try to lie ... me." the language failed him again.  He was _not_ a freak show.  She would _not_ make fun of him.

"Girls no like face!" he snarled, "no like _me_!"

The ambassador gaped at him

"Too short, too _ugly_!"

His grip on her wrists was painful and his face was so close to hers that his spit flew onto her skin.  She struggled angrily, grabbing at his tunic front, bodily dragging him closer to her.

"That's _bullshit_! " she screamed into his stunned face, "Those girls were IDIOTS!  You're very ..." She blushed up to the tips of her ears, unable to drag her gaze from those grey eyes.  Feitan searched her face, looking for confirmation, looking for permission, looking for anything, then his mouth closed hotly over hers.

She responded immediately, arching her back, pressing her breasts against him, moaning.  He found himself with a double armful of soft, willing female, something he had never had happen to him.  

Feitan had had very little experience kissing. Kissing was too intimate an act to share with almost every partner he'd ever had. Indeed, as he licked slowly into her mouth it was very much like kissing Chrollo – warm, soft, and inviting – but different. Not as safe.  Almost dangerous.  

She wasn't as adept as Chrollo either. Feitan's Danchou was _very_ well practiced. Better than Phinks though. Kissing the tall blonde was like kissing a big, over-friendly dog.

They stood up together and the small thief pressed against her, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck to pull her down, deepening the kiss.  A muffled moan escaped him.  His long suffering cock, laid low by a lifetime of memories of other girls, surged back into action.

He wanted to lick her neck, kiss it, bite it, wander everywhere over her body,  but her mouth was so hot, so wet.

_So much ambassador so little time._

He grinned at his own wit and shrugged his tunic over his head.  She took that opportunity to slide lower.  She kissed, she licked, and she bit.  Feitan gasped and tried to keep it together as she found his nipples, licking, then biting.  She dipped lower still, her tongue swirling around his belly button and tracing his goody trail - the strip of black hair that disappeared into his trousers.

Suddenly it became apparent that she was heading somewhere specific.

Before Feitan could react she was on her knees in front of him.

He looked down at her with reverent awe.  She tugged his trousers down.  “I've been wanting to do this since I laid eyes on you” she whispered. Her hand was so cool on his feverish cock. He tremblingly carded his fingers of one hand through his own hair and gently gripped her hair with the other.

_There's no way i'm putting myself in this vulnerable position.  No way._

Putting your dick in someone's mouth was a gamble. Then Feitan felt her hot tongue stroke the underside of his cock and his head rocked back and he stared, open mouthed, up at the night sky.

_I am the leader of the Gen’ei Ryodan. I'm a thief, a killer.  I have complete control.  I have no feelings for any -_

Eva took half his length into her mouth and he groaned, curling over her, clutching her hair in both hands.

Feitan had received exactly two blow jobs in his life.  Both from prostitutes and both so rough and quick and so long ago as to be almost forgotten.  That's not to say he hadn't had his cock in another's mouth.  His friends / lovers in the Troupe had had obliged but they had quickly moved on to other, mutually enjoyable, things.

This, this was a mind-blower.

No pun intended.

The woman below him slowly bobbed on his thick member, sucking, pausing frequently to lick sloooowwwly up the underside, tonguing the slit, swirling around the head, staring into his eyes.

One hand busied itself with his balls, rolling them gently between her fingers.  The other gripped the base of his shaft.

Feitan was pretty sure he wouldn't last three minutes.

Fuck.  One and a half.

“So good,” he whispered, eyes shut, “soooo goood.”

She was being purposely and torturingly slow and Feitan finally bucked his hips, seeking more wet, more warmth, more of her.

He abruptly bottomed out, gagging her, and was rewarded with her pulling off entirely.  She glared up at him.  His eyes spoke a thousand apologies and she took him back in again, him being careful to know his limit, re-establishing his rythym, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he pumped in and out, quicker and quicker, fucking her face.

For a moment Feitan thought he may have died, killed at the hands of an enemy, and was spending the last seconds of his existence cumming in the warm mouth of an eager woman.

"Ahh!  Ahh!  Nnnh, Ae-Fah!  So good!  So ..!"

He came suddenly, her hair in both of his hands, him bent over her in obscene longing.  His hips thrust a few times of their own volition as his orgasm subsided and she swallowed, the grip of her throat making him shudder.


	3. Smooth sailing

\---

Feitan awoke to another situation he had never known.

A lot of firsts

He lay on his back, unusual to him, he normally slept curled in a tight fetal position.  Eva lay beside him, her dark head on his shoulder, her arm flung over his chest, her shapely leg across his hips, hiding his dick.

The small man groaned, hand to his forehead.  What the fuck was he supposed to do now?  He cuddled with the soft woman in his arms.  Cuddled possessively.

All he wanted was her.  And the Troupe.  And Chrollo.  And Shal and Phinks.

_Fuck!_

How was he supposed to go back to the hideout?  He had every cent the mob boss and his lackeys had had on them safely in his bag, more than enough to make up for their double cross, but ...

Was he just going to walk in with Eva?

He was the boss now.  Danchou (though no one would call him that and he'd beat the shit out of anyone who did).  He could do what he wanted.

He looked down at her, his features softening.  He could just walk in and say - casually - this is my ... _girlfriend._

Feitan facepalmed.   _Oh god.  They'd never let him alone._

He replayed the early morning tryst over in his head, smiling.  Then he recalled, embarrassingly, that he'd fallen asleep almost immediately after cumming in a stranger's mouth.

He winced.  She could have stabbed him with his own knife, cut his throat, gouged out his eyes, or any number of creative cruelties while he slept.  He groaned.  He was a fucking professional, all right.

He looked down her body.  She was still dressed and the short skirt had ridden up to her crotch.  He gingerly lifted the hem and ran his fingertips over the tiny bit of lace on her underpants.  White cotton underpants.  How innocent seeming for a woman who could make the official interrogator of the Phantom Troupe come undone with just her mouth.

He was getting hard again.  

He really wanted to have sex with this woman.  Not just oral again  - though he certainly would not turn it down - but regular sex.  He wanted his dick buried in the hot, wet, center of this person.  He wanted to feel that nen aura as she came.  He wanted to make her call out his name. No ... _scream_ his name.

And he wanted to all that a _lot_.  Over and over.

Feitan chewed his lip and shifted, easing her leg off of his now very erect erection.

 _What if she doesn't_ want _to have sex with you?_  His brain whispered.   _What if she's like all those other girls and guys?_

He frowned.  She expected him to ransom her off.  To let her go home.  Why would she want to fuck her kidnapper?  Had she just blown him to get him off his guard?  To convince him to do what she wanted?

His hard-on was fading.

He was mulling over all this when he heard the tiniest whisper, the soft scrape of soil and before he could react, Phinks and Shalnark appeared, braced for a fight  

"Shit, Fei!" Phinks yelled, relaxing, "What the fuck?  We've been looking for you for -"

There was absolute silence for a heartbeat then Eva sat up, rubbing her eyes.

Phinks's eyes almost fell out of his head.  Even Shalnark looked startled.

Phinks stared at her.  He took in her dishevelled hair, her bare feet, her wadded up clothing, and turned his attention to Feitan.

The small thief had had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his trousers and stand.  His tall blond friend's face was crimson.

"Fei!  The fuck?!  Where did you get this girl?!  Did you _fuck_ her?! I thought we had a ..." the man blushed suddenly and rubbed the back of his neck " ... a thing."

"You fuck girls all the time!" The smaller man screamed, "Every time we get in a town you chasing pussy!"  His fists balled up at his sides, "I like pussy, too!"  He crossed his arms defiantly, "I get to fuck girls too!  I _like_ this girl!"

Phinks was dumbstruck.

Fortunately all this was said in japanese, so Eva understood none of it.  She stood awkwardly, slightly behind Feitan, and gripped his arm with both hands.

The smiling smaller blonde placed a gentle hand on Phinks's arm. "That sounds fair, Phinksy,"

"Well, shit." Phinks said.  He kicked an innocent rock lying nearby and smoothed back his gelled hair aggressively with both hands.  

"Shit!  So does this mean you and I ...?"

Feitan shrugged. "We still do it.  If she no mind."

Phinks brightened considerably, "So does this mean I get to fuck her too?"

Feitan's face went as blank as Illumi Zoldyk's. "I kill you if you even think about that again"

\---

They were walking back to the current hideout. Eva and Shal walked ahead, talking animatedly, and Phinks and Feitan walked together behind.

Feitan was rubbing the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “Phinks?”

“Yeah?”

“I tell you something?”

“Sure.  You can tell me anything.”

“We no … uh … Me and Ae-fah, not actually do it.  Yet.”

Phinks goggled at him. “Dude.  Why the fuck not? You spent the night alone with her and didn’t … ya know?”

Feitan ducked his head, frowning.

“Want her to _want_ to.” He said, softly. “I kidnap her.  Don’t want her to think …”

Phinks nodded then cleared his throat, searching for a change of subject

“So you got the money and killed that fat fuck?!” He said. “That's fucking awesome.”

Feitan colored with pleasure at the praise while aiming a punch at the other man who dodged, laughing.

“No seriously. It's great. “ Phinks insisted.

“No flirt” Feitan grumbled, hiding a smile

“Why not?” Phinks asked, looming over the smaller man, a leer plastered across his face.

Feitan shoved him away. “You suck my dick?  Then we talk.”

“I couldn't talk if I was sucking your ... Wait …” Something in Feitan’s face made his best friend pause.

Phinks looked from Feitan to Shal and Eva and back. “Fuuuuuuuck!  She …” his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “She fucking _blew_ you?!”

Feitan couldn't help grinning like an idiot.

“You goddamned lucky bastard!”  Phinks said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck and staring wistfully at Eva's ass as she walked. “How are you so fucking lucky?  I haven't gotten good head in … shit. I can't remember how long”

He glanced sidelong at Feitan who was still smiling foolishly and also watching Eva's ass. “I couldn't even … ?”

Feitan looked death at him. “Maybe if she want Danchou …”

“You'd share with Chrollo but not your best friend?!” Phinks yelped.

“Could do Eva and Chrollo at same time,” Feitan murmured thoughtfully. His face went blank and dreamy as he brought up _that_ mental picture.

“You're a fucking perv _and_ a greedy bastard!” Phinks spat.

Feitan’s laughter drifted up into the hot sky.

 

 


End file.
